


[DRAFT] Gold On Your Fingertips

by GalekhXigisi



Series: The Unholy Holy Trinity Collection [7]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), Stranger Things (TV 2016), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Angels and Demons, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, No Beta, Trans Richie Tozier, We Fall Like Richie, Will get updates, at least 5 chapters, because fuck you thems the rules, heavily inspired by Good Omens, im just not sure abt this yet, religion mixing, untagged/undecided shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 20:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21343903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: Richie gets told to start tempting angels. His brothers seem to get the same memo, to which begins a rather large amount of other Fallen following in their lead.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Dustin Henderson/Lucas Sinclair, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Jonathan Byers/Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley/Heather Holloway, Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky, Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
Series: The Unholy Holy Trinity Collection [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553902
Kudos: 14





	[DRAFT] Gold On Your Fingertips

The demon runs a hand through his hair, sighing softly at his brothers, who seem to be doing their rounds now, collecting at the front of the crowded room. Boris, the eldest, held his wings high, the three sets of looming darkness plotted with stars that burned bright blue. The man was in love with an angel, one that had never  _ not _ reciprocated the feelings. If anyone outside of the three brothers knew....

His voice rings clear, giving a status report as Richie stalks forward, smirk painting his lips. He wasn’t formal like them, hated going up there. He was more of a  _ take out communications _ and  _ glue money to sidewalks _ sort of tempter, not that anyone really knew. Hell only needed so many reports and Richie pulled in enough souls as was. Beverly knew what he was doing, standing at his side with a cocked hip and cigarette on her lips, pack offered out for the other. 

Richie gave her a soft smile, accepting a smoke. The demoness’ finger lit red, burning with flames that he leaned into, inhaling slowly. Smoke fills his lungs, easily filtering out. Smoking couldn’t hurt The Fallen, nor could it do anything for angels. Not everyone knew that. The three brothers knew it, most of the fallen knew it, and a few angels did, too, though Richie had yet to meet one outside of Boris’ own that smoked without genuine fear of repercussions. 

“Where the  _ fuck _ is Tozier,” comes a voice that snaps Richie’s eyes up, filtering up to his brother, Mike, who was currently looking around the room. The boy tenses against his own will, one of his wings shooting up like a raised hand, red stars sparling over his feathers, connected by golden ropes carved out of years of learning to form stars the same way the great  _ They _ had taught the brothers to do before she decided they were no longer worthy. Mike raises a brow as his brother.  _ “He _ has a job for you,” he replies to the other before tucking his wings in and turning, going back to whatever announcements he was giving. 

“Shit,” Beverly breathes out, half-lidded eyes turning to him, “What’d you think the great ole  _ he _ wants with you?” 

Richie shrugs, taking one final drag. He blows the puff in his face before stomping out the blunt with a bare heel. “Probably to tell me to do better or some shit.” 

“Like you  _ aren’t _ his favorite,” she replies, dropping her own butt on the ground. 

Richie smirks and turns away from her. “Whatever, Bev.” He’s already walking away before he sees it. “Tell the babes I’ll be late for tea and soda,” he yells at her. She’ll tell them, even if he hadn’t said that to her. It only takes a moment for him to be beside Boris, who is already pulling the younger aside, leading him to the backroom as if the younger didn’t know the way by heart already. 

“D’you think I’m in trouble,” he asks the other, still pulling that smirk he always plays everything off with. It’s fake and he’s sure the taller knows it. Even with the thick shades Richie had started wearing somewhere throughout the years, he’s rather sure his brother can still see the panic held beneath dark frames. After a moment of not replying and a flickered glance away, Richie frowns. “Shit, am I  _ really?” _

“Don’t know,” he replies, opening the final door. 

The room is vast and flickering with flames, fighting against Satan Himself, who was actually a cold person. Angel wings hung against the walls, decorating the Sulpher-bathed room like trophies. They  _ were _ trophies, accomplishments. Boris pushes Richie in and shuts the door within an instant. 

“My Lord,” Richie greets, already surpassing a bow, wings folded tightly against his back. “Am I in trouble?” 

“Of course not,” the Lord answers, gravelly voice making his stomach churn. “Gabriel,” he says, standing. It makes Richie feel like vomiting, the old identity before he fell feeling absolutely  _ horrid _ against his ears. It feels like sandpaper against his ears. “I want you to tempt angels,” he says so slowly, thinking out his words as he says them, “The same way you would tempt anyone else.” 

Richie nods, quick and harsh. He understands it, understands what the king of The Fallen means. His stomach churns unhappily but he nods. “Of course, My lord.” 

“That is all. You are dismissed, my child.” Richie nods again, slipping out of the room within an instants chance, fingers threaded together and mind buzzing. He doesn’t even acknowledge his brothers, who hover by the door, formally. He didn’t want to talk to the fallen angels formally called Azrael and Uriel. Boris, who had a way with Death and Mike, who had a knack for creating light at every turn. 

“Dude,” Mike tries, pressing a hand to his shoulder. 

Richie shrugs it away with a passive, “I’m not in trouble. Now, I have tea with Bev and the others.” He doesn’t wait for a response, disappearing with a flutter of his wings. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments! I love them!
> 
> here's my discord server! We can scream about all this shit!  
https://discord.gg/eGkwayy


End file.
